


The Bowl Game

by Semi_Weird_Shipper



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Awkward Flirting, Comfort Sex, Crushes, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dates, Denial of Feelings, Dubious Consent, Face-Sitting, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Gentle Sex, Hinted voyeurism, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Kidnapping, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Masterbation, Mental Instability, Mentioned bondage, Monster porn, Oral Sex, Public Display of Affection, Rung is a monster, Size Kink, Slash, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Super angsty, Suspense, Tentacles, Therapy, Trust Issues, Unrequited Love, Valve Fingering (Transformers), Voyeurism, rare pair hell, sensitive medic hands, wrist kink
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2019-03-18
Packaged: 2019-09-28 21:17:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 12,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17190494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Semi_Weird_Shipper/pseuds/Semi_Weird_Shipper
Summary: Ok, so what I did was I wrote down names of the characters from Transformers MTMTE, I cut them out separately, put them in a shiny bowl, mixed them up and drew two names out at a time. No backsies, I'll write a short story for each pair I pull. The results will be posted as I go along. Additional tags and pairings to be added in the future.And seriously, the only reason I did this was because I was bored, and I wanted to see what stories I could cook up by doing this.





	1. Overlord and Swerve

**Author's Note:**

> **Pairing:** Overlord x Swerve.  
>  **Warnings:** kidnapping, slash, dubious consent, size difference, angst.  
>  **Summary:** Swerve has been captured by the decepticons, and Overlord has agreed to let him go unharmed if he can make it ten minutes without overloading.
> 
> Welcome aboard the boat of Rare Pair Hell. I hope you have your seat belts buckled, because we goin' on some adventures.

Ten Seconds

Swerve shuddered as he sat with his little legs spread across either side of none other than Overlord's face. He had been ambushed and taken in by decepticons who eventually labeled him as useless and had gotten ready to kill him until suddenly one decepticon decided to step up. And he wasn't just stepping up to help him, he was stepping up to _claim_ him.

Swerve had been terrified to see that it was Overlord who had requested to take him in, and the other decepticons openly let him! And although the bigger mech hadn't so much as even scratched him, he was still a shaking and whimpering mess.

"Let's play a game," Overlord had said, "I'll give you ten minutes, and if in ten minutes you haven't overloaded then I will let you go unharmed."

At first Swerve was terribly reluctant to give in, fearing what type of positions Overlord would use on him in order of seeking out a overload, so he had asked what would happen if he refused. And Overlord's answer was far beyond anything he wanted to get himself into.

So here he was, sitting on the giant decepticon's face with his servos shakily holding his helm as he felt the con's glossa licking between the seams of his interface panel. Biting his lip, Swerve felt a heavy blush working out across his cheeks from both pleasure and horror.

"Open for me," Overlord growled as he licked across the tiny, overheated panel, his optics staring straight up into the bot's visor as he continued trying to hide his face away, " _Swerve_..."

"S-sorry!" Swerve nearly choked when he realized how frozen in terror he had been, ripping his servos away from his face and smiling nervously, his panel hesitantly sliding away, "I guess I'm just nervous, you know. I've never been in this type of situation, well I mean, not the situation where I'm kidnapped by decepticons- that happens all the time- but where I'm actually sitting on one's face! That's crazy right? And I also haven't ever- _oh!_ "

Swerve let out an adorable squeak when he felt something solid and wet laving his tiny valve. It tickled at first, but soon became surprisingly pleasant as he sucked in a breath and looked down. It was hard to tell, especially with those intense optics watching him, but he could see the way Overlord's mouth was moving against the delicate spot between his legs.

It made his mouth wobble in embarrassment, his cheeks turning a dark shade of blue as he tried looking away. "Y-yeah, I'm-err... I've never had this type of thing done to me, and uhh, it kind of feels... Strange," he looked down at the decepticon and waved his servos, "Not that what you're doing isn't good! It's good, it's really good, it's just that I didn't think it would feel _this_ good, not that I was doubting you, I just..."

Swerve gasped as a sudden burst of pleasure filled his abdomen and thighs, causing his back to jolt from the tingles, and his optics clenched shut.

Overlord smirked as he gently sucked the talkative, little bot's anterior node, sliding his glossa against it and tugging on it with his teeth. It earned him a beautiful show of pleasure helpless cries, a shaking helm and clenching servos. Absolutely adorable. The bot's face was so blue and heated, he looked like he was ready to convulse just then.

But Swerve managed to master himself, reminding his body that this was a life or death situation. He looked at the time: three minutes down. Primus, how was he going to make it through this when he already just almost lost it in three minutes?

Swerve bit his lip harshly while trying to think of something to stall his processor. Zombies, rust, getting energon shots. Anything that wasn't the talented mouth occupying his sensitive valve.

Swerve looked back at the time and noticed that he managed to make two minutes pass, but time was slower now than the glossa pushing inside him, which happened to make him arch and gasp.

"It feels so good," Swerve tried talking to run through time and pleasure, his valve tingling and his thighs aching, "I-I almost don't understand why you're doing this to me- not that I'm judging or anything!- but it's just that no one ever wastes their time on me, and you, you're a big part of the decepticons, ha, literally! And I just don't see how someone so talented would want to... To do something like this to a worthless bot like me..."

Swerve couldn't believe he was complimenting the enemy here, especially an enemy that had threatened his life before and was now eating his valve out, but a part of his little talk was true. No one ever wanted to waste their time with him for more than they had to, and he was confused about why Overlord would.

Biting his lip and trying to shift his hips a little once the threatening urge to overload began sneaking up on him, Swerve choked back a moan and lolled his head back, begging to Primus not to let this happen to him.

"An-and I'm also surprised that you've lasted so long," Swerve wished that, for once, his own chatter might drive someone insane and make them leave, "I honestly expected you to have chucked me against the wall! It's not like it hasn't happened before- _nnhg!_ \- I just thought you would since I keep talking and- ok! I'll shut up, I'll shut up!"

Swerve ducked his helm and flinched when large servos quickly moved up to his helm. Optics clenched shut and body braced for pain, Swerve forgot to breath as he silently waited.

One large servo gently touched his back causing him to wince, but he soon found himself humming in confusion when the appendage slid down his back in this gentle, oh so comforting way. Swerve shuddered hard, opening his optics as another servo ran down the side of his cheek, brushing his neck as it slid down his chassis.

Overlord smirked again, thinking about how sweet and utterly adorable the minibot was. He let his servos trail down to his hips where he pulled him closer and practically buried his face in between his legs.

Swerve made his cute squeaking sound again, grasping his own helm and mindlessly moaning. The way that glossa thoroughly pushed up inside him and felt around, the lewed, wet sounds coming from Overlord's mouth as he licked and sucked his anterior node.

It was too much.

With the force his hips were locked in, so tightly pressed against the decepticon's mouth, Swerve began to panic as heat and pleasure flared in his tank. "No, no, no, no!" he whispered, looking up at the time and going pale. Two minutes left, "No, not- _ahh!_ \- now, oh.... Not- _uh!_ \- now..."

Swerve clenched his optics shut and tried blocking away the pleasure, thinking about anything he could that would help distract himself from the ongoing assault between his legs. He bit his lip, fearing what would come if he lost while his body stayed on the painful edge of blissful release.

Crying brokenly, Swerve threw his helm back and yelped as he overloaded around the decepticon's glossa. He trembled violently and whimpered, groaning as wave after endlessly sinful wave of release moved up his back and through his limbs. He sobbed in pleasure and shame, slumping forward and panting.

"Ten seconds," Overlord said.

Swerve gasped and looked up at the time. He had lost track after overloading so harshly, so he didn't know what ten seconds meant.

"You lost."


	2. Rodimus Prime and Perceptor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Pairing:** Rodimus and Perceptor.  
>  **Warnings:** none.  
>  **Summary:** Rodimus is having trouble talking to his crush, and Whirl mentioned something about said crush being rather fond of minibots...

Minibot Bait 

Rodimus had been trying to get him for so long. Endless conversations and ideas shared from almost every aspect of the Lost Light had been shared with him, and yet he still didn't know how to talk to him. Rodimus even went so far as to ask for advice, and possibly went further by asking Swerve if he knew if Perceptor might like him back?

Rodimus wasn't good when it came to mathematics, or even talking rationally when he was around someone who he had a crush on. He tried acting calm and collected, as if he had everything under control, but several mechs already had noticed his strange behavior of late.

"Maybe you should try talking to him face to face," Tailgate suggested while sitting in the prime's lap, his legs dangling in the air as he sipped from his twisty straw, "I don't think Perceptor really cares if you like to cuddle minibots- which you obviously don't- no offense."

It was true. In Rodimus's position, he looked completely annoyed; his elbow sitting on the counter as he held the side of his helm up, an utterly bored expression adorning his face plates as he impatiently waited for something to happen. What did he want to happen? Not even he knew anymore.

If there was one thing for certain then it was that he wasn't trusting a dang word Whirl said to him anymore. Three days he had been trying to give minibots a maximum amount of attention, cuddling them and carrying them around, even going so far as to blow raspberries against their armor because it was cute. So Whirl had said: _Perceptor loves minibots, and do you know what he loves more? Mechs who love minibots!_

So Rodimus had tried going out to the bar, command center, office, just wherever Perceptor was, and openly fondled whatever minibot was around at the time. Rewind liked to be carried, Swerve loved to walk around holding hands as he chattered, and Tailgate loved to just sit and cuddle.

It wasn't that bad.

Even Rodimus had to admit that fondling minibots made his spark relax in a comfortable joy. But when they decided to lecture or get smart with him... Then he doesn't like them as much.

"For your information, I'm bizarre over minibots', ok? And also, I don't need to talk to him face to face," Rodimus calmed himself and leaned back, servos folding behind his helm as he smirked, "My looks and bad-bot-kicking charm will do all the talking for me."

"Oh," Tailgate tilted his helm back to look up at the prime, his drink loosely held in his servo as he asked, "What's it saying?"

Rodimus peeked down at the little blue and white bot in his lap and said, "It's saying that I'm awesome and that some bot named Perceptor should start paying more attention to it."

"Are you sure it's not saying that it needs a shower?" Tailgate innocently asked, his visor as sweet and as adorable as ever.

Rodimus gave him a flat look, thinking about all the ways he could torture Tailgate without Cyclonus tearing him to shreds. Briefly he wondered how long it would take for someone to offline being tickled. The idea stewing in his processor.

"Tailgate, are you ready to go?" Cyclonus waved to Rodimus politely, walking up to the bar and looking down at his mini-lover.

"Just as soon as I finish my drink," Tailgate grabbed his straw and quickly began drinking.

Rodimus tilted his head to the side as an awkward silence filled their little bubble. He tried concentrating on the rest of the bar instead of the fact that Cyclonus' minibot was currently sitting in his lap.

"And how is your luck with Perceptor going?" Cyclonus asked, and Rodimus couldn't be more happy to change the subject.

"Good," he answered with a chill, vague lift of his servos, "Getting closer every day."

"I'm happy to hear that," Cyclonus nodded.

"Ok, I'm done," Tailgate slid his cup across the counter and jumped off Rodimus's lap, turning around to give him a goodbye hug, "Night, Roddy. Please try talking to him, _please?_ "

"No promises," Rodimus hugged the minibot for a moment before letting him go and smiling, "Night, little buddy."

Tailgate's visor definitely showed implications of a smile as he grabbed Cyclonus' servo and began walking away.

Once they were gone, Rodimus looked back at the bar. Perceptor wasn't even facing his direction, instead he was sitting with his back facing him as he talked to Drift and Ratchet. Ridiculous.

Rodimus sighed and turned around, looking at the head of the bar and seeing Swerve walking around quickly to make drinks. He didn't feel like anymore pety fondling tonight; he was too tired, and his spark felt heavily disappointed.

Why couldn't he just talk to him? Why couldn't he just walk over and say 'hi'? Did Perceptor not appreciate his efforts? Or was he trying too hard? Had his intentions been wrong and he was doing everything incorrectly? Or was he wasting his time because Perceptor didn't like him and this whole thing had been all for not?

Rodimus frowned, his optics lifting when he saw Swerve struggling to reach an extra bottle of high grade from the top shelf. The little bot looking like he was about to slip and fall from his current position standing on top of the counter, awkwardly bent over and bracing himself from the second shelf as he tried to reach for the top one.

Rodimus didn't feel like joking or insulting, so instead he walked around the counter and looked up at the struggling minibot. "Swerve, here, let me help you," he picked the bot up from underneath the arms and sat him on the ground.

"Oh, thank you Rodimus! I thought I was gonna fall and crack my helm! I hate heights..." Swerve fiddled with his servos and watched as the surprisingly silent mech grabbed the bottle of energon with ease, "Tonights so much busier than normal, I'm having to break out the emergency stuff, which as you can see, I'm not very good at reaching."

"Its all good, Swerve," Rodimus said in a calm, lighthearted voice as he lifted the bottle out for the minibot, "Need anything else?"

"Well, I've got a whole table load of friends I need to deliver this platter to, and Ratchets been waiting forever for his drink," Swerve quickly opened the bottle and pulled out a glass from the bottom shelf, filling it up and handing it to Rodimus, "Would you mind taking it to him for me please?"

"Sure thing," Rodimus grabbed the glass and nodded at the bot before walking back around the counter. His helm down as he approached the correct table.

"Here you go, Ratch," Rodimus said, lifting the glass out and avoiding making any eye contact with the mech sitting across from the medic, "Opposed as a gift from Swerve to me to you."

"Thanks," Ratchet grabbed the glass, confusion and surprise in his voice as he looked up at the commander, "And since when do you do the waiting?"

"Swerve needed help," Rodimus shrugged, getting ready to walk away, "Does anyone else want anything before I go?"

"Actually, Rodimus, I was wondering if I might speak with you for a minute? Alone..."

Rodimus wasn't sure if it was a scheme of his processor, or if Perceptor actually just asked if they could talk alone.

Either way, he'd answer with the same joyful, "Yeah, sure."

Perceptor stood up and led him to a less occupied area of the bar, turning around and giving him a warm smile. "I think it's nice that you're helping Swerve."

Rodimus smiled in return, forcing back a blush and all his excitement with a mere brush of his foot across the ground, lightly shaking his helm. "It was nothing, really. The little guy needs some help every once and a while."

"He tells me a lot about you," Perceptor said almost timidly, "You're a really great friend, Rodimus, and I... I was wondering if maybe we could hang out sometime? If you're available... Commander."

Rodimus answered quickly, agreeing to meet up tomorrow night after his shift ends. Eagerly making his way back to the counter, scooping Swerve up with a squeak and giving him a big hug.

Maybe Whirl wasn't so dumb after all.


	3. Ratchet and Prowl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Pairing:** Ratchet and Prowl.  
>  **Warnings:** Implied bondage, sensitive wrist kink.  
>  **Summary:** Ratchet has sensitive servos and needs someone to take care of him, however, he's not so fond of the idea of using cuffs.
> 
> I'm surprised I actually pulled this pair, I usually don't write Prowl that much, but I'm actually having a lot of fun in my little boat all by myself :)

Sensitive Wrists

Ratchet never was one to indulge in kinks or even the mere thought of interfacing in itself. He had too much work to do, and too many priorities to attend. There just wasn't enough time or opportunity.

So when decepticon activity had been simmering down as of late, Ratchet found himself being propositioned by Prowl to relieve some of his... Stress.

"I'm not putting those worthless little contraptions on my wrists," Ratchet grumbled as he sat back against the berth, Prowl square in his lap and holding out a pair of energon cuffs.

"And why not?" Prowl asked in a testy voice, as if he already knew that something wasn't right here.

Ratchet looked away, snooting. He tried to make it seem like the idea itself was more stupid than the fact that he had really sensitive wrists and servos. Just touching things all the time was hard enough. The last thing he needed were cuffs that were tight and wore out his wrist.

"I just don't like them," Ratchet said bluntly, feeling the black and white mech eying him like a book. He shifted, moving his servos down to his sides and rubbing his thighs, "Can't we just 'face without the cuffs?"

"Not until you tell me exactly why you don't like them," Prowl hovered down over the medic, their panels pressed snug against each other as he straddled his hips. He tossed the cuffs aside and tilted Ratchet's helm up, looking into his tired, grumpy optics.

At least he wasn't pressuring him into wearing the damn things. Ratchet sighed and finally looked up at the other mech, "My servos tend to get rather sensitive when they're stressed out too much, it's no big deal. Happens all the time. Now can we please get to the 'facing."

Prowl gave him a look, a look that made him scuff in the back of his processor. Reaching down, Prowl grabbed Ratchet's servo and lifted it up, cradling the limp fist in both his own servos and giving it a gentle rub with his thumbs. He studied the medic's face as he seemed to wince, gritting his teeth and huffing.

Were they really that sensitive?

"Perhaps they wouldn't be quite so sensitive if you would merely accept the time to let someone take care of you as you deserve, Ratchet," Prowl gently spread Ratchet's fingers out and rubbed soft circles up his wrist and into his palm.

Ratchet sucked in a sharp breath at the sensation, the delicate area becoming warm and hyper aware of the treatment it was currently receiving. His fingers began to tingle badly, a feeling like pleasure working through his entire left arm as Prowl continued to rub at all his G-spots.

"They'd be sensitive either way, now let's 'face," Ratchet grouched, trying to tug his servo back only for Prowl to keep him at bay.

"Patience," Prowl said smoothly as he ran his fingers out across Ratchets and rubbed carefully, "You say one thing, but I believe that your body says another. Just look at how heated you're becoming."

"That's natural," Ratchet huffed. He had to admit, the gentle massage was making his entire body sing out in these wonderful, calming sensations. It was like nearly being rocked to sleep, except he was uncomfortably turned on by it.

"You need someone to take care of you, Ratchet," Prowl whispered and kissed his servo, holding it up to his face and raining soft, sweet kisses out across his knuckles, "Let me take care of you."

Ratchet was about to grumble and complain some more, until that was, he felt something warm and wet sliding up the side of one of his sensitive fingers. He made a sound like a moan but not quite as exact, his optics widening as he squirmed around.

Prowl thought it was obvious, if Ratchet's reckless body language was anything to go by, he liked this. He licked his way up the middle finger and back down, sucking the heated metal that was shaking at the knuckles. It earned him a concert of lovely gasps and beautiful arches.

Ratchet clenched his other fist, the force making the experience even more intense. With the weight his lover had put on him, and the fact that he was laving his sensitive fingers, Ratchet almost wanted to push him away and call it a night, but something about the simple ministrations kept him from wanting to do anything besides enjoy it.

His whole body relaxed and he moaned, letting his helm fall back when Prowl took one of his fingers into his mouth, sucking lightly.

"I love seeing you like this," Prowl murmured, rubbing Ratchet's other servo and kissing his palms.

"Don't... Don't stop," Ratchet rasped out, his fingers twitching in the mercy of the other mech.

Prowl obliged and took two of Ratchet's trembling fingers into his warm mouth and sucked on them, rubbing the other fingers between his own. He watched in mild satisfaction as the medic huffed and moaned and twisted around in pleasure, his blue optics squinted closed as he sang out his bliss.

It was beautiful.

Prowl let the fingers go with a little wet pop before switching to the other two, whispering, "Tell me what you want, Ratchet. I want to hear you say it."

Ratchet growled in vague annoyance, his body overheated and held on the verge of absolute relief. He looked up at the other mech and sighed again, "First, I want you to keep doing what you're doing there, and second, I want you to let up and 'face me like you said you were going to before you started gettin' all kinky with me."

Prowl smiled against Ratchet's servo and closed his optics, getting ready to ravish the sensitive fingers apart. "Of course... but I just had a thought," he looked down at the medic with a devious smile and leaned over him, face to face, "If your fingers feel so good inside my mouth, then imagine how they would feel inside my valve."

Ratchet knocked himself clean into sensory overload right then and there. 


	4. Kup and Drift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Pairing:** Kup x Drift|-Deadlock  
>  **Warnings:** none.  
>  **Summary:** Drift wants Kup to indulge his interests, but Kup is being hard to get. 
> 
> **Notes:** yeah.... I know.

I Don't Date Decepticons

"I said I ain't interested, kid, now beat it," Kup tried voicing in a tone that expressed initial annoyance and easy rejection, his head not sparing the pouty mech one look as he passed by.

Drift's open smile faded when the older mech walked past him, and he felt all his limbs sagging before he could control himself. Some mechs' were just plain hard to get rust buckets. Still, he wouldn't quit when he hadn't even said a word.

"Hey, wait up," Drift waved his servo and immediately began following after the older mech who didn't seem to be taking any time to genuinely slow down. Once he was walking beside him, Drift looked up at Kup and said, "You really should give me a chance to prove myself. Being this judgemental really isn't good for your reputation."

Kup huffed and vaguely smirked around his cigar, not once looking at the desperate bot beside him, instead focusing on his destination to the bar. "Hope ya don't mind me sayin', but I think not trustin' cons' helps my reputation more than you'd be surprised with," he took his cigar out of his mouth and breathed out.

Drift gave him a flat look even if he couldn't see it, and pressed on, "But I'm not a decepticon anymore, don't you get that? You trust Megatron, how am I any different?"

"Who said I trusted Megatron?" Kup looked over at the white bot with one risen optical ridge, showing off the disinterest in his optics. It wasn't necessarily a lie, he didn't completely trust Megatron yet, but he was definitely on the guilty list for being friends and fooling around with him.

Drift had paused, but his thoughts were reversed when he thought, "I see you hanging out with him all the time, so care to explain that?"

"I'm old, he's old," Kup shrugged and looked back forward, taking a hit off his cigar, "Old fellas' gotta stick together don't they?"

"You're more unapproachable than Ratchet," Drift said with a salty scoff, his servos on his hips as he followed behind the older mech.

"That so?" Kup asked in mild amusement and sarcasm, "Well in that case, why don't ya go crawl up his tail pipe?"

"Because," Drift had had enough, growling as he grabbed the mech by the shoulder and turned him around, pushing him against the nearest wall, looking up at him with a serious face, "I said I wanted you and only you."

Kup made a surprised face at Drift's actions, but did not make himself appear too phased. He gave him his own tired, stern look, as if he had gotten fed up with all the complaints and offers. "Well... you're wantin' the wrong mech, kid," he looked away for a second, shaking his helm before looking back, "Me- I'm just an old bot. You'd be better off wastin' your time on somebody else."

"Actually, I don't consider this a waste of my time at all," Drift leaned forward, lifting his helm up to breath against grey face plates, whispering, "And for your information... I like older bots. Specifically you."

Kup wanted to hold a grudge against that statement; the kid seemed to be getting bolder and bolder each and every passing day. Kup found himself rolling his optics and giving in, "Fine, but listen, kid, I don't want any funny business alright? You got one chance to prove yourself, and that's it. I won't be fallin' for any slag, you got it?"

Drift smiled and grabbed Kup's servo, dragging him off in the direction of his berth chamber, ignoring any scuffs or lighthearted jokes the old bot might be making behind him. He was ready for this. He had been ready for this for a long time now.

Once they got to his chambers, Drift typed in his code quicker than a flash and pulled Kup inside.

"Easy there, hoss," Kup chuckled in slight bewilderment at how eager the younger bot was with him, "Ain't like we don't got all day."

As soon as Kup lifted his cigar, Drift plucked it from his servo and flicked it across the room, never once taking his optics off the older mech. And damn, did he love that surprised, somewhat flattered look of annoyance on the old fool's face. Leaning in, he cupped his face and kissed him.

Shifting against the wall he was pushed against, Kup reached his servos around Drift's waist and tugged him closer, feeling the younger mech's eager, firm lips pressing against his own. It was strange, to say the least, having someone kissing him like this, especially someone who was so young and so good looking.

Drift pushed more into Kup, servos woving around his neck as he kissed him deeply, glossa poking out to toy with the older mech's lips. He moaned, finally getting what he wanted, running his glossa over the warm set of lips before him and gently nibbling down on them with his fangs, trying to coax Kup into kissing him back.

And Kup eventually did, getting past his doubts and denials and gripping the bot in front of him more fiercely. He deepened the kiss and pushed his glossa into Drift's mouth, enjoying the way he groaned and gripped his neck with such impossible need.

Drift was the first to separate, releasing with a breathless gasp and running his servos all over Kup's strong formation. He traced transformation seams, kissed bared neck cables, and fondled old battle scars.

"Open your panel," he demanded lowly.

Kup made a confused face, "You sure you wanna go that far, kid?"

"Call me Drift," The white bot stroked Kup's face and felt around his overheated body, "And yes, I want this. I wanna go further than this, but I need you to let me first."

Kup was hesitant to let the bot make such a foolish decision, staring at him and thinking it over. He may not be the wisest buckaroo out there, but he had been alive long enough to know how these sort of relationships ended out. Just like several others, Drift was young and desperate; not yet fully capable of knowing what he truly wanted.

And that's why Kup was so reluctant to let him try. Because Drift might be certain about him now, but what about later? When he realizes that doing this was a mistake and a waste of time. Kup didn't feel like dealing with the rejection nor the frustration.

"You're right, I was a decepticon once. I served under the hands of Lord Megatron, but you know what that experience taught me in my youth?" Drift made Kup look at him as he leaned forward, brushing their olfactory sensors together, "Decepticons are always positive about the choices they make... Now... Open up before I choose to rip your panel off myself."

Kup obliged with a smirk.


	5. Rewind and Deathsaurus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Pairing:** Rewind and Deathsaurus.  
>  **Warnings:** Mentioned kidnapping, dubious consent, biting, and I guess buying people?  
>  **Summary:** Deathsaurus wants a minibot just like Overlord, because minibots have obviously become the new thing around here.
> 
>  **Notes:** When I pulled this pairing, I started laughing so hard I cried.

Mini Rescue

Rewind hollered in snappy protest when he was tossed none too easily inside a room. "Hey, watch it!" he yelled, rubbing his aft as he turned and scowled at the decepticon who threw him in here, watching as he snarled and closed the door, leaving him alone and angry.

Standing up with a irritated sigh, Rewind crossed his arms, glaring daggers at the locked door.

"Rewind?" whispered a light, soft voice from across the room.

Rewind recognized it instantly and felt his optics go wide behind his visor. "Swerve?" he turned around and gasped when he saw the little blue and red bot waving at him from atop the towering berth, "Swerve!"

"Rewind, I can't believe it!" Swerve sounded so excited, so happy to see one of his own kind after all the time he had spent here. He reached down to give his friend a boost on top of the berth, embracing him immediately like he might magically dissappear, "What are you doing here?"

"Well duh! What do you think I'm doing here?" Rewind separated and grabbed the other bot by the shoulders, turning him around and checking him over for damage, "I'm here to rescue you. Rodimus hacked into the decepticons commlink channel and was able to pick up on some of their small talk; heard them saying something about a hunt for minibots and so... I set myself up as bait."

"What?!" Swerve looked at his friend, gripping his servos tightly as he choked, "Rewind! You shouldn't have done that!"

The fear and concern in the other minibot's voice made Rewind feel unsettled. He gripped Swerve's servos back and asked worriedly, "Why? What happened? What did they do to you? Did they hurt you?"

"Well... Actually he..." Swerve bit his lip, blushing as he fiddled with his servos while looking away, "He..." Swerve leaned in and whispered the embarrassing news to his friend, his face bright blue by the time he was finished.

Rewind didn't mind though. He understood that Swerve must have been scared and nervous about it all. Just as long as he wasn't hurt though. He grabbed the minibot and hugged him, whispering into his audio.

"Its alright, Swerve, ok? I'm here now, and help is on the way. You don't have to worry about anything anymore, soon Rodimus and the others will be here and we can escape this Unicron hole for good," Rewind assured, "I've got a tracking device hidden in my subspace so the others will be sure to find us. We just gotta wait, alright?"

Swerve looked at the other minibot, still blushing as he nodded at the information, happy that they would be able to escape soon.

Just at that time the door opened and in walked Overlord and Deathsaurus. Swerve clenched his teeth, hugging onto Rewind who was glaring at the newcomers.

"Is this the one?" Deathsaurus asked once they were amongst the berth, staring down at the slightly bigger bot who shied away from his intense optics, "The one who makes such wonderful noises during your free time?"

"Mhm," Overlord bent down and lifted his servos out.

Swerve looked over at Rewind and frowned, separating from his protective embrace and lifting his arms up. He trembled in both humiliation and fear when he was lifted into the bigger mech's arms, not quite sure what was going on.

That was until Overlord leaned in and bit Swerve on the neck, causing the minibot to instantly squeal at the sudden pain and tingle.

"Hey!" Rewind jumped to his peds and pointed at the giant brute, "You can't do that! Put him down!"

"Oh, believe me," Overlord smirked down at the smaller minibot as he leaned back in and soothed Swerve's new love bite with his glossa, "He loves this."

As Rewind stewed up at the big blue decepticon, Deathsaurus turned to Overlord and observed his minibot, "This one seems rather feisty. Might we trade?"

Overlord shook his helm and hugged his minibot closer, feeling him blushing against his cheek as he pressed them together, "I was the one who hunted him down. Take him or leave him."

"I doubt he will satisfy me," Deathsaurus mumbled down at the little creature left standing boldly on the berth.

"Hey," Rewind placed his fists on his hips and pointed rightfully at himself, "For your information, dino brains, I'm the loudest, most talented minibot there is. Everyone wants a piece of my aft."

Deathsaurus snickered at his behavior and bared his fangs, "Is that so?"

"Yup," Rewind said arrogantly, "I actually feel bad for your friend over there. Swerve might be a talker, but he can't make half the noise I can. Isn't that right, Swervey?"

"Rewind..." Swerve, flustered and embarrassed, gave his friend a look that basically said 'shut it before you get us killed!'

"Seriously," Rewind turned to the four eyed decepticon and said boldly, "Try me."

Deathsaurus smirked and bent down, his big, clawed servos reaching around the minibot and lifting him up against his chest.

Swerve watched as Overlord rubbed and patted his helm, holding him securely on one arm against his chest with the other arm supporting him. Similar to his best friends position in Deathsaurus' arms.

When Rewind was close enough to see the big decepticon's many sharp fangs, and his scary appearance, he almost wanted to protest and back out. But he wouldn't back out because he was brave and he had this. He so totally had this.

Bracing his servos on the big decepticon's shoulders, Rewind _shouted_ when he was bitten on the neck, and then he yelped when Deathsaurus set to lick and suck on the new wound. Trembling, he shut down his visor as faint tingles worked out across his body, making him both flustered and angry, but hey, it was worth it.

Swerve had winced at the display, clutching at Overlord's arm as he tried seeing if his friend was okay.

"Hmm," Deathsaurus lifted his helm away from the whimpering minibot and licked his lips, giving Overlord a look, "I am satisfied."

"You can pay me tomorrow," Overlord said while turning around, clearly in the mood to fondle and pamper his minibot after the hot show he just witnessed, "In the meantime, enjoy your minibot."

"A pleasure," Deathsaurus departed with a thanks and began walking away towards the door.

Rewind and Swerve both exchanged looks. Swerve with a nervous frown and Rewind with a thumbs up and a happy glint in his optics.

Rodimus would be here soon. They just needed to trust in that.


	6. Fortress Maximus and Megatron

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Pairing:** Fortress Maximus x Megatron.  
>  **Warnings:** Sticky interfacing, kissing and oral fixation.  
>  **Summary:** Fortress Maximus is opening up to Megatron in more ways than one. 
> 
> **Notes:** I was so excited when I drew this pairing! I've wanted to write Fort Max with someone for so long! Also, thank you to those that have commented my random, silly one shots. You've truly made my day and have inspired me to continue with these random fics of mine :)

Happiness

"Megatron," Fortress Maximus shuddered a breath as he leaned his helm back, lazily, shifting his weight when he felt the x-warlord's glossa laving smooth, firm circles over and around his anterior node, "Megatron, that... That- _oh!_ "

Megatron looked up at the bigger mech, his optics gleaming with this incredible gentleness inside them, a sign of trust, love and joy. A desire to give pleasure even if he got nothing in return. So long as his partner was relaxed and comfortable, he'd do anything.

With his mouth currently occupied ravishing the mech's eagerly pulsing anterior node, keeping large hips pinned whilst two of his fingers gently pushed inside a well lubricated port, Megatron slowly pumped Fort Max's spike, taking his time to show and to prove that he could be patient, could be trusted, and that he wouldn't rush or demand too much out of the warden.

"Megatron," Fortress Maximus huffed, his helm leaning back forward, his cheeks dark blue and flamed with heat as he watched the grey mech as he began licking the underside of his spike. Clenching his optics shut and arching into the touch, Fortress Maximus sharply breathed at the wonderful sensations that Megatron was currently stirring within his body.

"Are you alright?" Megatron took a moment to lift his helm, giving the bigger bot a soft smile as he continued to pump his spike at a slow, languid pace.

"Yes, I..." Fort Max swallowed thickly and covered his face, "I just feel so bad. No one's ever done anything like this with me in a long time, I don't know what to do."

Megatron’s smile broadened and he stood up fully on his feet, popping his fingers out of the wet, thoroughly prepared port and stretching himself on top of the bigger bot. "Fort Max," he mumbled, feeling the quick pulse of the mech's beating spark beneath his palms as he smiled down at him, "You don't have to do anything aside from enjoying yourself. If there is something you wish for me to stop engaging in, or if you are not comfortable, then you may say so. Otherwise, all you have to do... Is enjoy it."

Fortress Maximus lowered his servos and felt as Megatron positioned his own spike in front of his delicate port. He sucked in a breath, unsure whether this would be painful or not, but he soon found himself relaxing as Megatron grasped his servo and intertwined their digits, holding securely.

Their lips met. Fort Max's optics closed and he moaned softly, feeling the tip of Megatron's spike slowly entering him. In other cases, he would have been furious and afraid, but after some good therapy and getting to know him, Fortress Maximus found himself falling for Megatron.

The x-warlord was so gentle, so comforting, so warm and understanding. He was like a blanket that could and would withstand anything Fortress Maximus had to strike at it. Enduring all the scratches and pain, and healing whatever was left of him.

Megatron licked Fortress Maximus's lips as he pushed his hips forward, his spike enveloped in a tight, welcoming heat as he kissed the warden deeply. He felt a servo move around his waist and submitted himself completely, just like Fortress Maximus had done with him.

As the kiss brought up new types of magical emotions inside his processor, Fort Max carefully pulled away from the kiss and held Megatron close, looking into his red decepticon optics as he smiled.

"I've never been this happy, Megatron," he whispered, tears in his optics as he felt Megatron’s spike completely buried inside him, "And I want to stay this way forever... With you."

Megatron never thought he could be smiling more, seeing Fort Max so content and happy. He gave his servo a reassuring squeeze and kissed the top of it, showing him that all parts of him were loved, were cherished and unwasted. Nothing was used for granted. 

"And I will do everything in my power to insure that we do stay this way," he kissed his fingers before letting them go and pushing himself down and forward, slowly but surely rocking his hips, "Because for you, Fortress Maximus, I will do anything."

Fort Max felt his emotions surging through him like buttery goo, his optics clenching shut as pleasure and shocking tingles raced up his back and all throughout his legs. Megatron’s words and promises played all throughout his processor as he leaned his helm back and sobbed in pleasure.

And Megatron watched him with immense satisfaction and affection the whole time, even as his thrusts grew more powerful and erratic, still gentle and loving. Fort Max's amazing, wonderful tightness squeezing around his spike and making him wish he could just pound the warden into the floor, but he wouldn't.

No, Fortress Maximus was special.

As Megatron picked up the pace, Fort Max held his face and started panting, little gasps and light shaky breaths slipping past his lips as he looked down, his neck aching along with his trembling thighs and waist.

As Megatron lifted his hips for a more delicious angle, Fortress Maximus cried out, jerking at the new wave of pleasure that flooded through him. He gasped, optics clenching shut as he clutched at the berth, his back arching from the new extreme sensation.

Megatron began thrusting more thoroughly, being sure to jut upwards into that sweet, delicate spot inside Fortress Maximus, and drinking in every delightful, spark racing sound he earned.

"Keep- _huh!_ \- g-going- _hah!_ " Fortress Maximus opened his mouth in a silent cry as everything began to be too much. When Megatron thrust against his sweet spot, he jerked and grounded his teeth, "Right there- _nggh- Megatron_ don't... Stop!"

As Megatron began stimulating the sensitive spot repeatedly with his spike, merciless as his strong hips tore into Fort Maxs and ripped out an overload that would have shakin' Cybertron itself, he himself fell over and roared as he overloaded heavily inside of the warden's tight, wondrous heat.

And Fortress Maximus _thrashed_ , moaning and gasping desperately as he jerked and writhed through his intense release. Stars blurred his vision with a field of white and black and he groaned as everything slowly began to settle down.

As Megatron pulled out and moved back forward, cupping Fort Max's helm and kissing him gently, tiredly, he soon found the warden kicking back into gear, moving against him until their spikes pressed together.

"Why, Max," Megatron said in a voice that made the warden shudder, "Three overloads already and yet you still haven't had your fill?"

"You were the one who said happiness comes in substantial amounts," Fortress Maximus breathed, still breathless as his processor caught up with the rest of his pleasure blown body, "I'm just merely following suit."

Megatron put a finger on his chin and smiled, "So I see." He leaned back down, already feeling the bigger mech's servos as they trailed down his back, close to his aft and dripping port, whispering, "What else would make you happy?"

"I'm sure I can think of enough ideas."


	7. Pharma and Chromedome

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Pairing:** Pharma x Chromedome.  
>  **Warnings:** Light bondage, light angst.  
>  **Summary:** Pharma wants to play a game with Chromedome. A special game. 
> 
> **Notes:** I love rolling this boat all by myself :) 'course I want passangers, but let's face it, I'm mostly alone here, lol!

Games

"Hello!" Pharma said a little too happily considering the exact situation at hand.

"Pharma, let me go," Chromedome's head was slouched as he laid limp against the tilted table, his wrists and peds cuffed against the shiny surface beneath him, "I don't feel like games right now."

"Ooh! So bitter," Pharma loomed over his x-partner with a crazy, undignified look on his face, not seeming to really go anywhere but definitely unsettling in many other ways, "Maybe I want to play a game, have you considered that? Or maybe you were too busy being pamperd to death by those imbeciles you call friends."

Although he couldn't really show his concern and discomfort in the situation, Chromedome knew that Pharma could read him like a book. And right now, he was at chapter spooked, tired and frustrated, just wanting to end this nonsense and move along to the official end.

"Pharma..." Chromedome's optics rolled behind his visor and he lowered his helm and let out a small ventilation, "What do you want? There obviously has to be a good reason why you're keeping me alive and I don't think it's because of any ridiculous game play- or whatever it is you like to do to bots before dismembering them."

"Aww, you don't like my games?" Pharma made a pout face, turned around to look at his table of anonymous instruments and torture devices, and scooted the large metal box forward. "Perhaps you haven't considered it because you think I'm too corrupted, but the game I have in mind for you is _special_."

"You say that to everyone you're about to offline," Chromedome pointed out in a unammused voice, his demeanor still defeated by shame, hidden apprehension and exhaustion.

"Yeah, but I don't say it twice," Pharma said confidently as he swiftly turned around and pointed at his x-lover. His smile falling slightly as he walked closer and closer to him.

Chromedome tilted his helm back and tensed, not entirely sure what was going on or why Pharma was getting so close. Close as in right in front of him, chest touching, ventilations mixing and optics level with each other.

"Games don't necessarily have to be won by just me," Pharma said lowly, "Particularly this one."

"What a twist," Chromedome felt his spark tighten in both emotional pain and insecurity.

And Pharma sighed at his silent fear, feeling internally a shamed with himself for being the cause of Chromedome's fear in the first place. "Here's how it goes," he trailed his servos down the length of the orange and white bot's chest, gripping his waist, "Answer at least three questions correctly and win a present, or don't answer three questions correctly and get... something you wouldn't really want to get."

If he had one, Chromedome's mouth would be hanging way down, but all he could do was stare at the other mech with invisibly wide optics.

And Pharma was quick to start. "First question: Do you think I'm a good person?"

The way the question was asked would have had Chromedome frowning, and the answer to it only made his processor roar in agony. Slowly, hesitantly, he shook his helm and said, "No... No I don't. Not anymore at least."

If Pharma felt offended then he didn't show it, simply continuing on with his game. "Second question: what is your biggest mistake?"

Chromedome took a few seconds, but Pharma seemed willing to be patient enough although it was hard to think with him being so threateningly close and whatnot. "Not being able to help everyone I had cared about."

"Third question: what is your greatest achievement?"

Chromedome felt a sliver of warmth fill his spark as he looked down and mumbled, "Rewind."

"Fourth question: What is most important to you?"

"My friends- Rewind most of all."

"Last question: do you believe in second chances?"

Chromedome looked at Pharma, looked right into his corrupted blue optics and just stared. It was as if the universe had been lost in the moment for the pause lingered and drew on for hours it seemed like. But, he did eventually answer.

"That depends. Would I give Swerve a second chance to make me a drink after getting the first one wrong? Yes. Would I give Rodimus a second chance to lead the team in a important mission after failing us in the one beforehand? Yes... Would I give you a second chance after-well... everything? No... I wouldn't."

After the full extent of the answer was out there, Pharma pulled away and stepped back. Chromedome watched him idly and felt an extreme ball of pity rising in the middle of his tank. The words he really wanted to say right there on his glossa but not managing to come out.

Pharma walked to his table and opened the 'present' box and said, "Congratulations. You got all of them correct... Except one."

Confusion and surprise washed over Chromedome when Pharma pulled out a little small remote and pushed the red button, all his binds coming loose and releasing him. He fell to his peds and grunted at the impact, looking up immediately and seeing his x-lover gently setting the remote down and leaning against the table.

"Now leave," Pharma said bluntly, crossing his arms, "Games over."

Chromedome couldn't though. Not yet. Slowly, as he stood straight, he walked over to the other mech and looked at him, lifting his servo outward. "What about you? Do you believe in second chances?"

"As a matter of fact I do," Pharma said as if it were obvious, "They happen all the time. Triple chances too."

"I hate you," Chromedome wheezed like it was a poisonous word.

Pharma smiled and reached out to touch his x-lover's servo, his processor sending pings of pain all throughout his body as memories both happy and sad played in his mind. "I hate you too," he said softly, the sadness contained in a well learned DJD manner.

"I know we're not playing games anymore, but can you answer a question for _me?"_ Chromedome asked as he stopped right in front of the slightly taller bot.

Pharma's wings fluttered in surprise but he kept from showing it as he nodded.

"Do you still love me?"

The question seemed like an implication of lost desire and hopelessness. They just said that they hated each other and yet Chromedome still had to ask the one question he did not want to be asked. Suddenly the servo he held felt cold along with every other part of his body, and he had to look away.

"Unfortunately..." He mumbled lowly, almost low enough that Chromedome didn't hear him.

But he did.


	8. Rung and Ultra Magnus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Pairing:** Rung x Ultra Magnus (monster style)  
>  **Warnings:** Monster porn. Masterbation, tentacles, fangs, sticky.  
>  **Summary:** Rung is secretly a monster and is too embarrassed to show it to his conjunx. Especially when he is aroused.
> 
>  **Notes:** So I saw this fan art Pic a long time ago, can't remember exactly who made it, but it was where Rung was like a monster and had all these crazy body parts and I thought... Why the hell not, right?

Monsterrific

"Rung..." Ultra Magnus held the little orange servo within his own larger one and looked down at those beautiful yet averted optics, "Talk to me. I may be able to help."

Rung didn't look back though, his spark feeling way too heavy inside his chassis as that second part of him sulked internally with anguish and denial. It was like fighting depression, which it probably was, but he was losing. He knew Ultra Magnus was just trying to help, but he couldn't risk giving up his most disgusting, vial secret, especially not to the commander.

A sad, hurting part of him hesitantly began to believe that maybe accepting Ultra Magnus' offer as a conjunx was a bad idea.

He shouldn't have done that, and only for Ultra Magnus' well being.

"Excuse me, sir... Ultra Magnus," Rung lifted his helm and seated his glasses back upon his face, keeping himself from releasing any shaky ventilations or even shaking in general as he stood straight and nodded once, "I went too far, I apologize... I am not yet ready for... for this."

_'Yes you are. Liar. You are. You are so ready. Ready for his spike splitting us open as we split him open at the same time.'_

Rung clenched his fists as he held his vents shut, his body rumbling and causing him to shift uncomfortably. It was hurting. _He_ was hurting. He was on fire and his wild half wasn't making it any easier. If he didn't get some release soon then he was going to explode.

"I-I must go," Rung confirmed and looked away again, shuddering when his conjunx squeezed his slightly trembling servo.

"I'm sorry that this did not turn out as you would have liked, Rung," Ultra Magnus said in his rarely expressed gentleness tone, his optics boring into the smaller set as he praised him, "Is it too much?"

"No, it's perfect," Rung looked up at him and shifted once more, "It's just that I'm not ready. That is all."

"You seem rather... flustered," Ultra Magnus pointed, his servo moving down the length of the therapist's arm, "And warm... Rung, you're overheating."

Rung bit his lip when Ultra Magnus looked at him with worried optics. "Are you alright? Should I escort you to Ratchet?"

"Oh no, I'm fine, really," Rung assured although he was struggling with himself not to shift and explode, the touch on his arm making him tremble even further, "I believe I merely need some rest. Surely by then I will have readjusted and we may try again."

"Would you like to rest here tonight?" Ultra Magnus asked in that kind voice that he only used when he was in intimate situations with him like this. His servo running further up his arm.

_'Yes, yes you'd love to rest with him. You'd love to snuggle as he spooned you and then we could come out and he'd gasp in surprise. He'd moan and writhe and you'd be trapped in between us. You'd be getting off between us.'_

All the sudden Rung's entire body- including his arm- harshly trembled beneath his armor and he shuddered. Yanking his arm away and stepping back quickly as he vented heavily. "I-I'm terribly sorry, Magnus, I-I must go."

Without another word, Rung turned around and sped to the exit of Ultra Magnus' personal chamber. His body feeling as if it were dragging behind himself. He felt awful for rejecting and leaving Magnus behind like that, but he couldn't risk hurting him in the process of igniting his monster.

Running down the hall, Rung was thankful that he was able to get to his room without any interruptions, immediately opening the door, slipping inside and locking it. From there he collapsed on the floor before he could even make it to his berth, groaning in agony as his body began transforming.

His back twisted upward, becoming just a few inches longer as his plating split open revealing teeth and sensitive mesh. Long, spiked yet slim tentacles sprouted out from either shoulder and reached down between his legs. His jaw unhinged at the sides and his mouth twisted until it was all two inch sharp fangs and a long glossa that slipped out and dripped with coolant. His glasses fell off and his optics turned red.

And his valve.

Rung mewled as his thighs spread apart and the armor shifted, allowing the true heart of his monster to show. His valve now a large hole lined with sharp spikes and teeth that ached for major stimulation. The multiple anterior nodes pulsed wildly making him mewl and writhe and paw.

He clawed at the ground as he bent over, tentacles quickly setting out to fill him up. Whining at the practical ache from it but it just felt so _good_. As his tentacles stuffed him, he licked the palm of his servo, getting it completely wet in one swipe and reaching down to squeeze and twist around his spike.

Then he was imagining that it was Ultra Magnus who was filling him up, Ultra Magnus who was fisting his spike so wet and hotly and just- _frag_. He would be big. Ultra Magnus was honestly too big for the normal part of him. But for the monster part he would be perfect. He would be _perfect_.

Rung moaned and pressed his helm to the floor as he clutched himself harshly and pressed the tentacles in further, his barbed flesh squeezing and engulfing but it just wasn't enough.

Ultra Magnus would thrust so powerfully, he'd grip his hips and tear into him, and Rung- he'd frag him back with his tentacles, he'd frag them both. And then he'd suck him off, listen to his loud moans as he deep throated him, worrying him with his fangs as he tounged his slit and just- _frag. Frag frag frag!_

Ultra Magnus would be so overwhelmed, he'd gasp and overheat and vent helplessly as he kept thrusting, face flushed and optics watering. Rung would face him, arms and legs bruised as he gripped his lover back and kissed him. Glossa exploring, teasing, tasting and - _frag._

Then he'd come, groaning Rung's name loudly as he filled him with his transfluid, and Rung would explode, his tentacles filling the commander all the way up as he thrashed beneath his hold, his entire being crashing with pleasure. They'd hold each other and pulse and pulse and pulse as wave after endlessly deep wave of pleasure exploited through them- _Frag!_

With a sharp, sudden yelp mixed in with monstrous growls and moaning, Rung came and shouted. He arched even further, his secret power making him more flexible as he moaned on and on as overload tore through him, his frame shaking wildly with overwhelming pleasure.

Guilt, shame and embarrassment rose inside Rung as he whined in misery. Ultra Magnus tried to engage in foreplay tonight and Rung couldn't follow suit for his power was far too incredulous to include. He couldn't expose it. Ultra Magnus would be so disgusted and disappointed. He's probably have him removed from the ship.

Groaning sadly into the floor, Rung frowned as he sat up, tentacles pulling out of his now sore valve as he slowly began to stand, knees and elbows tired from all the rough treatment. But he just couldn't help himself.

Little did he forget in his trance of self erotic service, he gave his room key number to Ultra Magnus for sentimental reasons so the commander had every right of access to his room whenever he wanted.

"So this is why you tried to hide from me?"

Rung made a startled growling sound as he turned around, every part of his monster exposed to his conjunx.

Uh oh.

"You're a monster," Ultra Magnus exclaimed in what seemed like disbelief but also confusion and maybe even wonder or surprise and~

Primus, Rung didn't know! All he knew was that this relationship was now completely and utterly ruined.

"U-Ultra Magnus," Rung's gruff voice said as he quickly worked to transform back into normal mode as soon as possible, "F-forgive me, I... I was just- I'm so sorry, Magnus, I was going to explain this to you but I had panicked and I feared that you would disapprove and I'm just~"

Rung was surprised when he felt a large servo grab his own clawed ones and he met optics with the commander who seemed... Empathetic.

"Rung," Ultra Magnus whispered softly and made a small smile, "You have nothing to worry about."

"I don't?" Rung stopped shifting as he gazed sadly up at his conjunx, watching as he turned his helm away and avoided temporarily optic contact.

"Not at all," Ultra Magnus said in a more gruff tone, the sound of squealing metal present for a few mere seconds before he looked back forward with a bigger, more fangy smile, tentacles springing from the lower half of his sides, "I too am a monster."


	9. Whirl and Tarn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Pairing:** Whirl x Tarn.  
>  **Warnings:** interfacing.  
>  **Summary:** Whirl and Tarn may seem like cruel, ruthless, rough mechs to everyone else, but to each other they are more gentle than newly born kittens. 
> 
> **Notes:** So I got the one pairing I hoped I wouldn't pull the moment I started this damn game... _Great_....

Love The Gentle

"That hurt, you big brute!" Whirl hit the bigger mech on the helm with his clenched pinchers- an aggressive tap more than a mean hit- in his fit of aggravation, "When I said I would come here for a good time, I think I actually meant a _good time_ , not... not whatever this slag is."

"I never suspected that this would have been a problem," Tarn said as he tried shifting the curvy mech on his lap to a more comfortable angle though his bendy legs made everything a little bit more difficult.

"Do you know how bad this looks right now? I mean you're embarrassing me here! I can't get this kind of treatment from a single fella back at base and then I hook up with you assuming that you empathized but apparently not," Whirl tried to snuggle with the bigger mech, but the shifting was annoying him and his legs were getting sore from the position, "I don't understand you-no, scratch that. I don't _know_ you. What's your name again, stranger I've never met before?"

"Whirl..." Tarn honestly wasn't in the mood for this type of conversation or the rather ridiculous situation either. He had a long day and just wanted to relax with someone there beside him.

Whirl, who just like him, was the only mech who he could share his super secret habit with. Hugs, snuggles and cuddles. They might seem like angry, crazed, dangerous stricken mechanisms, but on the inside they were softer than proto metal. That's why they worked out so well for each other.

"That's my name," Whirl pointed out and tried looking up at the bigger mech with a pouty optic glare, "Plagiarist..."

Tarn did good to ignore him. Instead of arguing, he seated his servos on the blue mech's hips and asked calmly, "I have an idea in order of getting more comfortable. Stand?"

Whirl didn't make it easy though. "Oh yeah?" he tested, "What?"

"You will find out," Tarn confirmed in a voice that stated he wasn't in the mood for troubled games.

"I know we've been doing this for a while, but I'm not sure if I one-hundred percent trust you yet..." Whirl made suspicious optic gestures and rubbed his cheek with the back of a claw.

"I am only doing this so that I do not harm you," Tarn explained and gave the blue mech a tired look, "If you feel the same then you will follow suit."

Whirl gave Tarn the testiest look for a few moments as if he were scanning him over for lies or challenge, but only found weakness. "Fine," he gave up and began standing, pointing one claw at the other mech and saying clearly, "But only because I like ya."

After he was half way up, Tarn helped the other mech to stand up the rest of the way and guided him away from his desk to his personal berth on the other side of the room. Holding him close the whole time. "Lie down on your side," he commanded softly.

And Whirl surprisingly complied without complaint, stepping forward and plopping on the berth like it was the easiest thing in the world. Tarn watched as the slender blue mech sighed in content and snuggled into the plushness of his rich berth, and he climbed in behind him.

"So... What now?" Whirl asked as he felt the bigger mech move in behind him, one large purple arm reaching over his side and pulling him close to a warm chest plate.

"Open up," Tarn whispered and trailed his free servo down the shorter mech's backside, "And let us do this _properly_."

"No schemes this time?" Whirl asked wearily, giving the decepticon one more brief glare.

"None what so ever," Tarn nodded.

"Permission given, but I hate that mask of yours," Whirl complained as he turned his helm back over and rested it against the provided pillow, "I know it's for the province of decepticon stuff and yada yada, but it prevents me from knowing whether or not you're just pulling my gun titties."

Tarn would have complained back or rolled his optics, but instead of either, he just reached down and gently rubbed the now presented valve before him. He caressed the slick metal and rubbed over its tender, sensitive mesh before carefully pinching at the brightly glowing anterior node at the top.

The action caused Whirl to nearly jerk.

"Hurt?" Tarn immediately stopped. Concerned.

"Nope," Whirl replied in a slightly staticy voice and scooted back into the decepticon, wiggling his aft for more pressure, "If it hurt then you wouldn't be alive."

"Point taken," Tarn lifted his servo up to his face and removed his mask, making the movement seem genuine and maybe even unnecessary, but at least it went unnoticed by the mech in front of him. Setting the mask aside, he resumed his task down lower, rubbing gently at Whirl's soft, slick valve folds and sliding his digits through them.

Whirl shuddered in front of him and squirmed slightly but Tarn kept going, rubbing slow, soft circles here and there and just barely prodding the small hole of the real adventure. Whirl making little jerks and faint, tiny gasps as the exploration continued.

"Too much?" Whirl heard Tarn ask and lifted his helm slightly at the feel of warm intakes on the back of his neck.

"Don't look," Tarn ordered, "Just enjoy it while it last."

Whirl didn't complain or make a fuss, because hey, he complained about seeing Tarn's face before and it never worked, so maybe not complaining might get him somewhere for once.

Shuddering, Whirl rested his helm back on the pillow as he felt two digits rubbing around his port and valve. "Ready for the next part?" he heard the DJD ask him reassuringly.

"Yes," Whirl would have swallowed if he could, but instead he only tightened his claws and tried to relax everything else, "Slow though."

"Of course," Tarn vented close to the blue mech's helm as he slowly began pushing one digit into his tight, warm heat, carefully feeling the folds out and making the process as smooth as possible.

Whirl clawed at the berth as a small stretching happened inside his valve. And it's not that it really hurt, but it's just that it felt so good. So perfect. The arm around him, big, safe and secure, the gentle digits in his valve promising pleasure and patience, and the mech behind him giving him simple but calming phrase as the whole process continued.

Whirl could never feel so loved anywhere else. And neither could Tarn.


	10. Tarn and Tailgate (bonus)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Pairing:** Tailgate x Tarn.  
>  **Warnings:** oral sex, slightest bit of angst.  
>  **Summary:** Tarn has heard about Overlord and Deathsaurus' minibots, and decided that he wanted his very own.
> 
>  **Notes:** Bonus because I drew the pairing Tailgate x Cyclonus and I'm not writing that because it's a popular pair and practically cannon so I left it out and decided to write this instead. Hope every one likes it!!!
> 
> Also this is the end of the mtmte pairings. Transformers animated (which I'm already cringing at) is next!

Cherishable

As Tarn walked down the hallway of his base, holding the little snoozing autobot in his arms carefully as he went, he felt a sudden tug in his spark. Deathsaurus and Overlord both seemed so much... _happier_ lately. And at first he didn't know why until he saw their minibots.

Swerve- Overlord's minibot- was so chubby and adorable when exposed to affection out in public. Rewind- Deathsaurus' minibot- was a little feisty but still cute when being pampered out in public. But they were happy. They all looked happy.

Tarn could see change a million miles away. Especially when it came to attitude. Overlord and Deathsaurus were not close to any standards of gentleness, kindness or even love. They treated no one with mercy and were always cold hearted and cruel to anyone they spoke to. But here lately, the two big decepticons had been acting nicer and more open.

And Tarn suspected that it was from their new little companions.

Deciding that he wanted one as well, Tarn began searching until he found the perfect one. Tailgate. The sweetest, cutest, most adorable little bot he had ever seen was now lying comfortably in his arms like he was his closest friend or soul mate.

Smirking behind his mask, Tarn quietly opened the doors to his chambers and walked inside, closing the door back and locking it. Tailgate moved a little in his arms, huffing little sweet ventilations as he got comfy once again on his side, facing Tarn's chest and clutching it softly with one little servo.

It made something inside the usually cruel and merciless DJD leader shift to the side, opening up an invisible door that immediately sprouted with these new unfamiliar emotions. At first thought he would have tried to push them away, conceal them, pretend that they were never meant to exist and act as if they weren't important.

But this little bot snoozing away in his arms made them important. He made them _real_. These emotions were real and they wouldn't be there if it hadn't been for Tailgate.

Tarn had been watching him, watching the way he communicated with his autobot friends especially that big purple one with the missing horn. Now that made him frown in disgust. Cyclonus didn't deserve Tailgate, not for how he constantly treated him; ignoring him, hitting him and brushing him aside as if he didn't matter!

Ridiculous.

And what was worse was that Tailgate couldn't see- or at least did not want to see that Cyclonus did not like him back, not at all. So with a little bit of secret, friendly coaxing, Tarn had gotten Tailgate to trust him, and after a period of time, got him to believe him as well.

Tailgate might have been a little heartbroken to learn that Cyclonus didn't like him in any way, but Tarn would prove that he was good enough for him.

Setting the minibot down gently on his pillow, Tarn wasted no time in removing his mask and leaning down over the snoozing minibot. His system was firing here, and he had the biggest urge to claim and consume the cute little bot before someone else did. He needed to. He needed to do it _now_.

Caressing the minibot's smooth cheek, Tarn ran his free servo up his side and stopped shy of his tiny thighs, watching them twitch and feeling them warm instantly under his touch. Primus, he needed this. He needed it so badly.

In his simple slumber, Tailgate woke up and groaned, wiping his visor as he started to reboot. He yawned and stretched, feeling nothing but drowsiness until he felt a touch to his side. Gasping, he opened his optics and sat up only to come face to face with the DJD leader.

"Tarn," Tailgate squeaked and giggled when he recognized the monstrous form before him, "I forgot you were taking me back to your ship. Are we there yet?"

"Yes, we are," Tarn leaned in and gently pushed Tailgate back against the pillow, the flat of his palm nearly as big as the bot's chassis as he situated his form to where it was spread and presented rightfully to him. Beautiful. Tarn could feel his very energon lines pulling straight inside him.

"Its nice," Tailgate said with a hint of nervousness in his sweet voice, trying to avoid optic contact as he felt the bigger mech looking down over him, "Far nicer than any of the rooms at the Lost Light. The rooms there stink and most of them don't even have windows."

"Fret not," Tarn vented as he ran his large servos over the bot's warm, quivering form, already feeling overwhelmed by the thought of tasting him, making him gasp and moan his name before thrashing around his helm when he came, "Here you will have everything your spark desires. Here you will be cherished unlike you ever were before. Allow me to show you, Tailgate, allow me to show you how much you are cherished."

Tailgate was extremely nervous and shifted around as he brought his servos together and tapped them against each other. "But..." He frowned internally, "But what about our size? I'm a little too small to really be any kind of _good_ use, you know..."

"Size does not matter to me," Tarn had to physically bite back the impatience before it leaked into his tone, his servo finding the minibot's interface panel and rubbing against it, "Allow me to show you, Tailgate. It's not something you'll ever regret and I can promise you that."

Tailgate finally let out a shudder as he gave into the words and touches of his companion. He had seen Tarn without his mask in those rare times when they had shared their unique traits with each other, but never had they done anything like this! He was so nervous and maybe even possibly a little bit afraid, but that was just because of their different sizes and Tarn's exact reputation.

Tailgate felt bad, honesty, falling for such a delusional, cruel enemy, but that guilt soon vanished when he opened his panel.

Tarn, driven by strong lust and desire, wasted no time in diving between the minibot's rightfully parted legs. Tailgate squealed and squirmed around. Tarn held him in place, caressing and squeezing his thighs as he devoured him instantly.

The minibot's valve was warm and wet, enticingly so, the soft mesh petals quivering against his lips as he licked in between them. Tarn released a needy sigh and pulled the bot closer so all that he could smell and all he could feel was his trust, his pleasure and his desire.

Tailgate squealed and clenched his thighs shut around the big decepticon's head, blushing wildly as pleasure and warmth streaked up his back and down his peds. It was... Amazing! "T-Tarn!" he gasped and arched at the feeling of that skillful glossa mapping him out and flicking against his anterior node, "Tarn..."

Tarn smirked as it felt as if his body was committing it's own version of arson inside him, and he understood now why it was that Overlord and Deathsaurus desired doing this in the first place. It was like torturing people except so much more... _Pleasurable_. To know that he was the cause of such power on someone who he could perform the act on again and again and again was beyond anything he had ever imagined.

"Tarn!" Tailgate shouted and arched, gripping the con's helm and shaking, "Tarn, I-I... I don't know what to do, I-oh!"

Tarn pushed his glossa inside the minibot's tight little port, his lips and mouth now completely wet with Tailgate's lubricants as he devoured him senseless. Primus, this was the epitome of pleasure.

"Tarn, please, Tarn- _Tarn!_ " Tailgate felt like he was going to boil apart as the condensation on his frame built and built the more and more the decepticon continued to ravish him. He clenched his optics shut and squirmed, whimpering, moaning and venting needlessly.

He trembled, his processor long sense losing acknowledgement of what exactly that skilled mouth was doing to him. Crying brokenly, Tailgate wailed as overload ripped through him, the extreme sensation starting in his valve and spreading everywhere else, down his legs, up his back and in his helm. He jerked, squealing Tarn's name repeatedly like it was the last word he'd ever get to say.

And Tarn didn't stop till he got every last tremble he could out of his pleasure helpless minibot.


End file.
